Starting Over
by SadaraLochlan
Summary: OC heavy. Sadara Lochlan has just assumed her first starship command. Her first love, a Betazoid, Maxus Gannon joins the ship as her CMO and they face their past. Set in the 2280's.


Maxus Gannon took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing his black eyes so characteristic of his Betazoid heritage. He willed calm as he stepped up onto the transporter pad that would beam him over to his new assignment as Chief Medical Officer of the USS Aries. Despite his love of research, Dr. Gannon had accepted the grittier posting aboard the Soyuz class boarder cutter at the behest of her new captain who had handpicked him from a number of candidates. This was not going to be an exploration cruise filled with new discoveries and opportunities and resources for research. The Aries was slotted for duty patrolling the Klingon Neutral Zone, an inherently more dangerous assignment given the enmity between the Klingon Empire and the Federation. He hadn't accepted the posting right away, needing to weigh the pros and cons before reaching a decision. Ultimately though, he realized he needed a break from the decades of painstaking research that had been his second purpose in life right behind being a doctor. He reasoned that perhaps a break would bring fresh insight and ideas that would help get him passed the block he'd been experiencing as of late. Add to that the chance to possibly learn more about Klingon physiology was too good to pass up.

Opening his eyes, Dr. Gannon smiled slightly, almost nervously at the transporter chief behind the transporter console.

"As ready as I'll ever be, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. Good luck, sir!" The young man grinned as he activated the transporter and watched as the Betazoid doctor dematerialized.

The Aries' transporter room coalesced into dimly lit reality around Dr. Gannon. He looked down at the transporter operator in front of him and beamed, hoping to appear less nervous than he felt.

The woman, a human of early middle age, stepped around the console, her green eyes bright and her smile enthusiastic. She wore captain's bars, but Dr. Gannon knew she wasn't the vessel's commanding officer; the yellowish-gold collar of her tunic indicated she was likely an engineer.

"Captain Kathleen Bradley, Chief Engineer. Welcome aboard, doctor!" Her Irish accent suited her cheerful personality.

"Thank you, ma'am." He glanced around and resisted the temptation to sense her thoughts. Even though it would be quicker and more efficient, Dr. Gannon had learned as a young man to engage primarily in verbal communication as most species in the Federation did. "I gather the captain has been detained?"

"Briefly; she received a communiqué from Starfleet that she needed to take. She wanted me to show you your quarters and sickbay, and she would see you afterward. This way, doctor."

The slender man followed the ship's chief engineer out of the transporter room and down the corridor toward the turbolift.

"Captain's bars I see?" Gannon remarked. "I thought that was unusual for engineers on space duty?"

Bradley chuckled and nodded as the turbolift doors swished open. "It is," she affirmed as they entered the lift. "Deck 5," she commanded the lift. "Usually by the time engineers get to this rank and this age they're thinking about teaching or retiring so they can spend time with their families. Some just flat get tired of having their work demolished in combat and get run off that way. That still hasn't happened to me though. And the captain and I have been best friends for almost 25 years. Where she goes, I go and that's all there is to it. She still does manage to demolish my work periodically just like they all do."

Captain Sadara Lochlan set her half empty mug of hot chocolate down on her desk and stood. Her sensitive Vulcan hearing had detected the familiar footsteps of Maxus Gannon approaching her quarters. It had been over 25 years since she had last heard those same footsteps, fading down a corridor at the University of Betazed and out of her life.

The door chime sounded and despite her awareness of his approach, Sadara still found herself unprepared and unusually nervous. Tugging on her maroon uniform jacket and smoothing out her chocolate brown hair, the Vulcan/Human hybrid straightened to her full height and composed herself.

"Enter."

The doors opened with a hiss and Maxus Gannon stood there as if rooted to the deck. His onyx eyes widened as he took in the woman before him, then he nervously ran a hand through his spiked, jet black hair. It was a slightly boyish style on a man starting to show a few fine lines around his obsidian eyes.

In spite of herself, Sadara smirked, her own sapphire blue eyes twinkling in the dim light. She allowed her mental barriers to fall so Maxus could sense her thoughts and emotions. Normally, she could block even Betazoids with her shields thanks to her half Vulcan heritage, but as a Betazoid he would feel more at ease if she allowed this. And she did trust him implicitly.

_Are you going to come in under your own power or do we need a tractor beam?_

The brilliant doctor visibly relaxed at the projection of her lighthearted teasing and approached her, arms outstretched.

As they embraced, their minds touched; thoughts, old memories and feelings rising to the surface and spilling over to the other.

_I imagine most starship captains don't greet their CMO's with a hug,_ Maxus sent with a chuckle.

_Most starship captains don't have the history with their CMO that I do._

There were so many things about Sadara that was familiar to Maxus from their relationship a quarter century ago. She still wore the same light perfume, her physical appearance had barely changed, owing to the much longer Vulcan lifespan; and the touch of her mind still warm and comfortable. Still, her life had not been untouched by the years and their mental contact was still tinged by the lingering grief of the past they shared together. Outwardly, the years of service in Starfleet coupled with the years Sadara spent on Vulcan had schooled her into a more controlled, more regal version of the woman he'd been involved with.

Pulling apart, Maxus glanced around her cabin for a brief moment, frankly curious about the stories it might tell of its occupant. A centuries old microphone stood in the corner and a few unopened containers still sat on the pristinely made bed. Apparently, Sadara hadn't finished settling in. There were a number of photos displayed of friends and family, including her teenage daughter Madeline and Madeline's father, James Kirk. A twinge of jealousy and envy surged through Maxus at the sight of the photo. It stirred in him memories of the long dead infant son he had shared with Sadara before they both entered Starfleet. Dual species hybrids were becoming ever more common place throughout the Federation, but their son, Tobin had been the first known tri-species child born. Modern medicine at the time had simply not been prepared to effectively reconcile the medical challenges of a tri-species child. Had he lived, Tobin would have been in his late twenties now and Sadara might have been his wife. He still hadn't quite tackled the bitterness he sometimes felt at what life had taken from him. The emotions still made him feel guilty though. It brought him some peace to know that Sadara had found happiness and had eventually had a healthy child. He just wished the same would have happened for himself as well.

"I see you still haven't acquired the taste for coffee," the CMO chuckled, noticing the mug of hot chocolate cooling on the desk.

"You remember what I said about that."

"Yes, you swore "come hell or high water" you'd never allow yourself to become dependent on that stuff. We'll see how well you hold up against the demands of starship command."

"Challenge accepted!" Sadara grinned. "And I mean it too. That's all this crew needs is a captain who can't function until she's had her morning pot of coffee."

"I thought starship command meant adventure and trying new things?"

Meeting Maxus' teasing look with one of her own, Sadara brought her mug of hot chocolate to her lips. "Some adventures I enjoy vicariously through the people around me; like Kathleen Bradley after one too many vodka martinis at the karaoke bar."

"You always did like empirical science," he joked.

Her expression suddenly looked wistful and pensive though the slight smile was still present. "I've missed your sense of humor. Hell, I've missed you."

Silence suddenly filled the room like a dense fog for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, Maxus shifted uncomfortably. "I've missed you too. A lot. I wish things had happened differently. You seem to have been able to move on. I haven't. Not really. Not in the ways that matter."

They were getting dangerously close to acknowledging the elephant in the room and Sadara had to fight off the Vulcan stoicism that threatened to close her off to the emotional nature of the conversation. Even after 50 years of life, her Vulcan and Human halves, so opposite to one another, still felt irreconcilable in many ways. One culture was stoic, relying on logic to navigate life. The Human culture preferred riding wave after wave of emotion; and gritting it out on life's sometimes rough seas with instinct and intuition. She often wondered if her Vulcan half tried to assert itself at these times as a defense mechanism to shield her from this pain or if it was her entering her "counselor mode." Perhaps it was a little of both, but neither was appropriate here. Maxus was a former lover and still a friend. And he needed a friend right now, not a counselor.

"I have followed your progress over the years. Your painstaking research and tireless efforts have been rewarded with the births of three healthy tri-species children. The parents were no doubt overjoyed. It was a noble endeavor."

"But it doesn't bring back our son, does it?!" He snapped, instantly chastising himself for his harsh tone.

He sighed heavily and looked up at the ceiling, his eyes misting over. "For almost three decades I have worked to make it possible for tri-species children to live healthy lives. And while I feel greater peace with each one, knowing that the parents don't have to suffer as we did, I still can't seem to fill the void left by Tobin's death. So often I wonder what he would be like today; if you and I would still be together. I can't seem to stop living in the past or wishing for something that can never be."

He covered his face with his hands and rubbed his eyes wearily. "That's part of why I accepted this posting, even though a ship of research and exploration is more to my liking. I need to focus on something else for a while, get some perspective. You knew that didn't you? That's why you handpicked me?"

"Guilty as charged," she admitted. "While three decades of incessant work on one particular project is not at all unusual for many researchers and medical professionals, I did suspect you were perhaps a little more emotionally involved in your project than most others. I suppose I became concerned, at least a little."

After a long moment, she rose from her chair and touched Maxus' arm, guiding him toward the partition that separated her bedroom from the main area of her quarters. On her nightstand sat another picture of Madeline and Jim, but also an old one of her with Maxus and then 1 month old son, Tobin during happier days before the baby's health declined.

Maxus immediately spotted it and was stunned silent for a moment.

"I haven't forgotten either, Maxus. It's time for you to heal though. You've buried the pain long enough with research."

Maxus barely heard her, instead unusually focused on his own thoughts. Sadara simply listened to him vent.

"I never wanted the breakup, but I knew you wanted your career in Starfleet and I wanted a family. It was fairer to you to let you go than try to stay together when I was too grief stricken and single minded to give you the commitment you deserved. I knew I wouldn't be able to concentrate on much else until I'd made sure that what happened to Tobin didn't happen to anyone else."

Another sigh. "Ironically, you're the one with the family now. I had a few short relationships, but those women left me after I spent one too many long nights at work instead of with them. I can hardly blame them."

Sadara touched his arm again, her heart aching for the evident pain he was still feeling after so long. "I'm sorry, Maxus. I wish I had something to say that wasn't totally cliché. Be patient if you can. It didn't happen right away for me either. Now that you've seen success in your mission, perhaps you can finally open up to other possibilities."

Maxus chuckled ruefully and ran a finger over the antique silver picture frame. He carried a smaller size of the same picture nearly everywhere he went and it had gotten very worn and mangled over the years. Fortunately, he could always burn a new one from the digital copies he kept. Still, there was something comforting about the beat up old one. It reminded him of life; sometimes it beats a person up a little, but there are always the little moments of sunshine that comes with too. He remembered the day that picture was taken. They'd decided to go on a picnic near Janaran Falls on Betazed, taking two month old Tobin with them. The weather had been perfect for it and as Maxus looked around, he looked forward to the day when Tobin would be old enough to go hiking in this same area with him. That day, Maxus had been certain that he'd never be happier. Little did he realize that fate was about to deal them both a crushing blow.

"I've never gone back to Janaran Falls; I couldn't. Not after you both were gone," he said, turning away from Sadara. She didn't follow him; realized he needed some space.

"We'll have to rectify that. It is too stunning a place to avoid for an entire lifetime."

"It's going to take me some time, Sadara," he said after a long moment. "I haven't seen you in decades, but I've never really gotten over you. And now you're married. That is going to take some getting used to."

"I understand. I'm sorry that I've brought you more pain. It wasn't intentional."

He put a hand on her shoulder and smiled slightly. "I know that." Then he left. He had no idea what the future would hold, but in at least a few ways, he'd felt that his world had come full circle.


End file.
